The Mansion

The Dress

  I had to force Blake to leave my apartment at midnight. He was determined to sleep over, dreading going back home to his mother. But I needed a good night sleep and time to Google him now that I knew his whole name. Plus, my recent incident with a jealous Matt proved what happened to my lovers when I let them stay over. They began to think they owned me.

  I showered quickly and slipped into bed. I typed Frederick Blake Beauchamp James into the Google images search bar. Hundreds of images of Blake popped up on my screen. He looked very different to how I knew him.

  Without his ugly moustache, his sexy top lip and square jaw were usually covered in black designer stubble. His messy, shoulder length black hair, that I'd come to love, was normally shorter and artfully tousled. Or slicked back on formal occasions. He could easily be a male model, I thought. There was no doubt about it, Blake was a gorgeous looking man.

  In almost every photo, he was accompanied by a hot model or actress or socialite. I clicked on every image, getting angrier by the second as I scanned his female companions. They all looked the same. There was nothing exceptional about any of them. All had perfect bodies, fake tits and lip fillers. All their character had been Botoxed from their pretty faces, even though they were in their early twenties. I looked through pages and pages of images of Blake and it suddenly dawned on me. He was the Prince Harry of Sydney.

  No girl appeared on his arm more than once. Apart from one girl, Jessica Strathmore, who had recently tagged him in a photo on her Instagram page. I knew it was a recent photo because he had his ugly moustache. It was a candid photo she'd taken of him from across the table when he wasn't looking at her. The caption read 'lunch with my man' and was dated the same day he'd stood me up for lunch.

  I clicked on Jessica's facebook and Instagram accounts and stalked her photos. She was an heiress like Blake. I felt a pang of envy when I zoomed in on her pictures. She was stunningly beautiful, with jet black hair and blue eyes. Ofcourse, she was cosmetically enhanced, but it all looked expensive and natural. I frowned at the sight of her on Blake's arm, they made a magnificent looking couple.

  I felt a rising panic as I clicked on her photos. The more photos I looked at, the more I didn't like the feeling I was getting in the pit of my stomach.

  It was that awful possessive feeling I got when I was obsessing about someone. I frowned. But I was obsessed with Ash, not Blake. The only thing I was obsessed with about Blake was his penis! Or was I? Was it me who'd caught the feels for once?

  "Oh, no." I said out loud. Was I in love with Ashton and Blake?

  After witnessing the contempt Blake had for his mother, and then seeing him with all those beautiful girls, I finally understood Blake's attraction to me. Unlike his brother who was actually interested in me, Blake was slumming it. Seeing me, to get a rise out of his mother. I switched off my phone and had a mental breakdown.

  I divided what was left of Matt's weed up so I had enough for the ball, and packed my vape with the rest. I always thought better when I was calm, and the only way I was calm, was when I was high. I inhaled deeply on my vape and let the weed work it's magic. My body and mind relaxed instantly. Then I began planning the best way to protect my heart, confident that it was about to be shattered into tiny pieces by hunky playboy Blake.

  The only way I could save myself from the imminent heartache was to invest all my emotion
and love into the his brother. And do the hardest thing in the world, stop sleeping with Blake, ASAP. I couldn't avoid him, but I could definitely avoid fucking him again. I closed my eyes and convinced myself to be strong.

  The next morning, I called AJ and told her I wasn't coming in for two days, in my croaky morning voice. She told me I sounded awful and to get better soon. Blake knocked on my door at 10am. I didn't let him in, much to his disappointment because he was already hard having presumed I would be up for a morning shag. Telling him no was harder than I expected because he was so sweet when he was horny, and I loved a morning shag.